The Cay: Part 2
by Alyssa M
Summary: This is a very stupid thing...


The Cay Part 2: Phillip's Return  
  
Another bright, but chilly, weekend in Willemstad had begun. It was late summer and already the golden leaves dropped from the tired trees. I drew the curtains of my room and let the sunlight shine through my newly- refurnish dwellings. If there was a good side to being on a desert island for a few months is coming back. My parents had bought me anything and everything I wanted yesterday, the day I came home. And since I was blind for that time, even more than I expected. Plus, they had given me the super- plus, as they called it, surgery for my eyes and they bought me all kinds of glasses for it.  
  
I heard a bell for breakfast and the not-so-familiar voice of my father calling "Breakfast, son. Pancakes and Waffles, fresh off the grit." My father's voice was as if he were in a commercial, just a walking advertisement.  
  
I inhaled the delicious aroma of pancakes as I entered the kitchen. I looked around in the opposite direction and I jumped when I found my parents. Both of them standing around my plate, big, fake smiles were on both of their tight faces. They looked like twins, or siblings, with two pairs of blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. I smiled sarcastically, like them and sat down. They immediately put a big plate with a Belgian waffle with smiley-face syrup inscribed on it.  
  
My mother spoke up, "I'm sorry, Phillip. It's all my fault!" She bent down and gave me a hug. "You sure were a man on that island! I bet you fought off natives and savages, just like that movie we just saw, right hun?" He elbowed my mother and they both started giggling together, engaging in a childish romantic reminisce of being teenagers. I rolled my eyes and put the last bite of the waffle in my mouth. I pushed away my plate and went upstairs to get dressed.  
  
I came downstairs again to find my parents sitting on the couch listening mindlessly to the radio's news. My mom waved her hands wildly at me and pulled me between my father and her. "Philly, it's you! On the news!" Mom cranked up the volume on the machine and her and I sat back. "Phillip Enwright, a twelve year old boy from south Willemstad, has recently returned from 'Devil's Mouth', a desert island by Jamaica. Phillip, if you're listening, boy, the scientists of the Town's Museum wish to take a tour of the island where you survived! The adventure will be broadcasted across the Atlantic Ocean, and all around Europe." My dad elbowed me and said, "Want to' go, son?" I thought of the island.  
  
The trade winds and the cool water, and I thought of Timothy. He was my only companion, if you count Stew Cat, on the Island. Timothy was buried there, and I always wanted to return. I looked at my dad and my mom and nodded. "Alright then, Phillip," my mother said. She picked up the phone and punched in a few numbers on the pad. It rang for a while and my mother excitedly said, "Hello, I'm Mrs. Enwright, Phillip's mother. We have our little adventurer ready!" She paused for a while, and I was certain the announcer was talking. "Okay, we'll have him ready tomorrow." Tomorrow? Already? I was just getting settled into my new environment. I sighed and went upstairs to pack for the rest of the day.  
  
"Darling dear, time to wake up," I looked at my alarm clock, 5:30! Anyways, I popped right out of my bed. I managed to get changed and put on the glasses that held my sight in them. After dressing, I slung my canvas backpack over my shoulders and stomped downstairs, rattling pots and pans because of the heavy load of clothes that I packed.  
  
The whole broadcasting station was there to take me to the island. I met each and every one of them. My super-parent mother made breakfast for the newscast and my dad cleaned them up. After a tearful farewell and a couple of warnings from my parents, we were off to the port. Our ship was beautiful. Painted shiny white and had a huge motor, she was about 70 feet long and 30 feet wide and went by the name of Calypso. She had three levels, the top one was where the wheel and controls were, the second was the deck, and the third was located under the ship and was our quarters. The person carrying all the equipment said the Calypso was donated especially for expeditions of the news team.  
  
After settling into my 'luxury' suite, I went back upstairs on the deck to see where we were. The docks were still in sight and I could see my parent's frantic waving. I went over to the stern of the ship and looked out the front of it. I could see nothing but murky blue water under the sunrise.  
  
Two weeks later I found myself sitting in the top level of the ship, sitting with the captain and him teaching me how to pilot the ship. The water had become a bright, blueberry blue and it was full of exotic fish that I remembered from my Cay. The captain spotted a tall, palm-tree covered island surrounded by sharp coral. I saw it too. It was our Cay. I jumped up and down excitedly, knocking the Captain's coffee over onto the floor. "Easy boy," he said to me, and slowed down the engines. "Go tell Mr. Fitzgerald to get the jolly boats and the other crew ready." I ran down the metallic stairs to tell the man. I watched Mr. Fitzgerald work on the boats to get them ready for launching. He got in one of them and motioned for the crew and me to board them. I got in the boat with the wildlife expert and the survival instructor. The person carrying the equipment got in the other one with the reporter. We rowed toward the small island.  
  
Mr. Fitzgerald pulled the boats onto the sand and tied them to a near palm tree. I got out and closed my eyes. I figured another storm might of destroyed the poles which I used to get around the island. I found them perfectly intact. I followed them up the white sand, past the reefs and the hut. I felt the prescence of my old companion. I opened my eyes and found Timothy's grave. I took out my pocket knife and carved a message on the palm tree beside it. 'Take care of Timothy, God. He was my only hope.' I walked away and toward the ship again remembering him.  
  
THE END! 


End file.
